Jack's Drunk
by veiledndarkness
Summary: If Jack's drinking alone in a bar, how long will it take for Bobby to find him? Warning: slight mentions of slash


Title: Jack's Drunk

Author: veiledndarkness

Rating: Pg-13 for the language

Warnings: not much really. I've actually thought about what he ponders in this quick one. And of course I added one of my favorite lines from the movie for the hell of it.

Pairing: Bobby/Jack

Final Warning: Slash pairing of Bobby/Jack

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'How drunk one gets pales in comparison to how drunk one feels', Jack decided to himself as he studied his bottle of beer, his eyebrows knitted together by deep concentration.

This had been his fifth bottle of beer in just under two hours. By this point, his inner self psychologist had appeared and forced him to confront several truths.

One was that slowly peeling back the beer bottle label and grinning like a loon in victory when the sticker came off in one piece, was only slightly less depressing than admitting that he had nothing better to do on a Saturday. At that exact moment he had successfully peeled three of his empty bottle labels free and arranged them in a tidy pile on his table.

Now, his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully pulled back the corner of his fourth label. He didn't look up when a shadow fell over him and the bottles littering the table. After a moment of being ignored, the shadow fell back, only to sit down in the vacant seat opposite Jack. Silence. Then the sound of a throat clearing. Jack looked up, his eyes wide as his head swam from the sudden movements. He leaned back and grinned.

"Bobby!" he slurred.

Bobby sat in the chair across from him, arms on the table, back hunched, fingers crossed. He noted the empties and their label less appearance and the pile of stickers. He picked one up, fingering it lightly.

"Did you know that surveys show that people who remove labels from beer bottles are suffering from a crappy sex life?" he said absently.

Jack giggled. "Or lack thereof" he said as he pulled another corner loose. Bobby snorted and dropped the label. He watched it flutter back down to the tabletop.

"How long you been here Jack?" he asked as he observed the glassiness in Jack's eyes.

Jack stopped picking at the label and frowned. He made a small 'hmm' sound as he scanned the bar, looking for a clock. "Guess it's been about 2 hours" he said, looking absurdly proud of himself.

Bobby nodded. Jack seemed fairly buzzed for only five beers. He spied a collection of shooters off to one side of the table. 'Ah' he thought with a smirk. 'Jack's gonna be feeling that tomorrow.' He counted quickly. Four shooters, total. Jesus.

"So, what kind of shooters?" he said, one finger pointing to the empty glasses.

Jack glanced over at the shooters and frowned again. He licked his upper lip as he struggled to remember the name of them.

"Uh…I think the girl called them liquid something…" Bobby sat still. Another 'hmm' from Jack.

"Liquid...liquid cocaine!" he half-shouted triumphantly. Bobby groaned. Lord help him. Those shots went down like fire, he knew that. And hit hard when they did.

Bobby could smell the cinnamon on Jack's breath as he shouted. The tang of alcohol was seeping into his nostrils and his own head spun. Bobby signaled the waitress with a small sigh. She stood by the table, a tray balanced expertly on her hand. He ordered a beer than looked over to Jack again.

"He'll have a Coke" he said, keeping one eye on Jack as he wobbled a bit in his chair.

"I don't want a Coke" Jack said suddenly. The waitress looked between the two of them, a small smirk playing at her lips. Bobby caught Jack's eyes.

"I think you've had enough Jackie." Bobby said carefully. Jack shook his head stubbornly. 'Who'd have thought that Jack was a silly drunk', Bobby thought, holding back a mental sigh. He'd have pegged Jack as a maudlin drunk.

Jack sat up a bit in his seat. "I'm not a little kid you can boss around Bobby" he said, struggling not to whine.

He could see Bobby getting annoyed but the words kept tumbling out of his mouth. "I want another beer" he added firmly. Bobby's lips all but disappeared into a thin line.

"Fine, two beers then" he said to the waitress, who nodded and turned away. Jack cringed as he realized just how childlike he sounded.

Jack looked down at the table top, avoiding Bobby's eyes. He could feel his grip on the table fading as his head whirled with the heavy music playing over the speakers. 'When had it gotten so hot in here?' he thought as he started pulling his jacket off.

"Who sent you this time Bobby" he asked as wiggled and tugged on his coat sleeves.

Bobby watched him struggle with the jacket. "Ma did" he said shortly.

"Oh" Jack said. He finally managed to get his coat off his arms. Then he looked up with confusion. "Why?"

Bobby held his gaze for a second. Finally he said, "You missed dinner. For the third time this week. You know she worries Jack"

Jack had a guilty look on his face as he realized what that meant. He never wanted her to worry, any of them really, but sometimes he just had to get out. He said this to Bobby, who nodded in understanding.

The waitress dropped off the beers. They drank in silence. Bobby placed his empty on the table and watched as Jack chugged half of it down in one go. He grimaced as Jack wiped his mouth with his hand and let out a noisy burp.

"Oh, like you never burp Bobby" Jack said with a laugh.

"Shut up ya little fairy. You can't even burp like a real man!" Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe not, but I can drink you under the table." Bobby chuckled out loud at that.

"Probably, but we're not talking about sperm right now." Jack threw him a dirty look.

"Don't pout Jack" Bobby said, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

"I'm not pouting" he whined. Ok, so maybe that was pouting. He tried to hold his frown, but gave in when Bobby started making stupid faces at him.

"Come on, Jackie, let's get out of here. Ma's waitin'". Jack giggled as he slowly stood up.

"Woo…head rush" he murmured. Bobby held out his coat for him. "Oh thank you sir" he said, laughing at the look on Bobby's face.

They left the bar a moment later, Jack clutching Bobby's arm as they walked back to the car. Bobby helped him into the front seat with a sigh. Jack was already out cold in the seat, his mouth open as he breathed shallowly. Bobby got in, one hand already reaching to turn on the engine. He stopped, turned and looked at Jack and smiled. Jack moved restlessly in his seat, until he was propped up by the door and window.

Bobby leaned over and placed a very quick but gentle kiss on Jack's forehead.

He started the engine then with a very nasty smirk on his face. If he knew one thing about drinking, it was that the next morning was always more painful than the night before.

Jack was in for a hell of a morning.


End file.
